Christmas is two weeks away and I'm deep in holiday mode — both holidays, both kitchens, the bilingual December I've been building. The Korean cooking class at the ID (Misook's class) had a holiday special: we made mandu — Korean dumplings — in bulk, the way Korean families do before holidays, everyone around a table crimping and filling and talking and eating the rejects (the ones that split open or looked too ugly to serve but tasted perfect). The communal mandu-making is one of the traditions I read about and longed for when I first started cooking — the family around the table, hands working together — and here I was, at Misook's class, making mandu with ten other people, our hands moving in rhythm, and the doing of it was better than the imagining of it had ever been.
My crimping has improved dramatically since my first attempt last year. Misook watched me fold a dumpling and nodded — not a compliment, exactly, but the Misook version of one: the absence of correction. She only comments when you're doing something wrong. If she says nothing, you're doing it right. The nothing was gold. I filled forty mandu in an hour. My technique: confident, consistent, the seal tight enough to survive boiling without splitting. Forty dumplings. A year ago I made thirty and most of them leaked. Progress measured in sealed edges.
I'm planning the Christmas menu: japchae (tradition, year two), tteokguk (the New Year's soup that made its debut last Christmas), and this year, a new addition: galbi-tang — short rib soup, a clear broth with beef short ribs, daikon, and scallions. Galbi-tang is a wintertime dish, warming and savory, the broth crystal-clear and deeply beefy, and I want it on Karen's Christmas table beside the turkey because galbi-tang says winter the way turkey says Thanksgiving — with authority, with tradition, with the weight of a culture's accumulated culinary wisdom.
Kevin confirmed he's coming for Christmas. Bridge City Roasters opens in February. He's spending December doing the build-out — painting, installing equipment, building shelves. Lisa is helping. He sounds — happy. Not manic-happy, not I'm-about-to-crash happy, but the genuine, grounded happiness of a man who is doing something he loves with someone he trusts. I asked about Lisa again. He said, "Still just business." I said, "Okay." The just is the same just as my cooking just: loaded, complicated, probably not just just. But Kevin will get there in his own time. He always does.
Dr. Yoon and I did a year-end session. She asked for a word to describe 2017. I said, "Korea." She said, "Just the trip?" I said, "No. The whole year. The trip was the centerpiece but everything was Korea: the cooking, the language, the class, the meetup, the identity. Korea as a project, Korea as a self, Korea as the thing I've been building for two years that is now, somehow, built. Not finished — you don't finish an identity — but built. Load-bearing. Functional." She said, "You're using engineering language." I said, "I'm an engineer." She said, "You're also Korean. Use Korean language." I said, "한국 사람이에요." I am Korean. Four syllables. The simplest, most loaded sentence in my vocabulary. Dr. Yoon smiled. Second smile of our therapeutic relationship. Two smiles in twenty months. I'm counting them like stars.
There’s something about working dough with your hands that changes you—I felt it at Misook’s table crimping forty mandu, and I feel it every time I roll out a batch of homemade noodles at home. The motion is different but the meditation is the same: flour, eggs, hands, rhythm. These easy homemade egg noodles are my weeknight version of that communal magic, the kind of simple-but-satisfying recipe that makes you feel like a real cook, one sealed edge at a time.
Easy Homemade Egg Noodles
Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 5 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6
Ingredients
- 2 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 3 large egg yolks
- 1 large egg
- 1/4 cup water
- 1 teaspoon olive oil
Instructions
- Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour and salt. Make a well in the center. Add the egg yolks, whole egg, water, and olive oil into the well. Use a fork to gradually incorporate the flour into the wet ingredients until a shaggy dough forms.
- Knead until smooth. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead for 8 to 10 minutes until the dough is smooth and elastic. If the dough feels too sticky, add flour a tablespoon at a time. If too dry, add water a teaspoon at a time.
- Rest the dough. Shape the dough into a ball, wrap tightly in plastic wrap, and let it rest at room temperature for 20 minutes. This relaxes the gluten and makes rolling easier.
- Roll it out. Divide the dough in half. On a well-floured surface, roll one portion into a thin rectangle, about 1/16 inch thick. Keep the other half wrapped while you work. Dust both sides generously with flour.
- Cut the noodles. Loosely roll the sheet of dough into a flat log. Using a sharp knife, cut crosswise into strips about 1/4 inch wide for standard egg noodles (or thinner or wider to your preference). Unravel the noodles and toss gently with flour to prevent sticking. Repeat with the second portion of dough.
- Cook the noodles. Bring a large pot of salted water to a rolling boil. Add the noodles and cook for 3 to 5 minutes, stirring gently in the first minute to keep them from clumping. Fresh noodles cook quickly—taste at 3 minutes. Drain and toss with butter, olive oil, or your sauce of choice.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 190 | Protein: 6g | Fat: 4g | Carbs: 32g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 210mg